


It Started with a Call

by CredulousDame



Category: teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - No Hale Fire, Drunken Shenanigans, Humor, M/M, Sexual Humor, aggressive egg making, loaded with vague references
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-14
Updated: 2013-05-17
Packaged: 2017-12-11 21:43:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/803577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CredulousDame/pseuds/CredulousDame
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“So why are you doing all this stuff? Shouldn’t your brother be the one interviewing the people he’s going to be staying with?”</p><p>Laura gets this look on her face as she pets Fenris’s head. “Derek...” She begins, picking her words carefully. “Sometimes Derek is an asshole.”</p><p>“Don’t go too easy on him,” Stiles snarks.</p><p>-<br/>Or the story of how Stiles ends up being Derek's roommate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Great Escape

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! So, I got this idea and decided to just roll with it. It's my first Teen Wolf fanfiction so I'm very sorry if anyone is out of character. It's not fully beta-ed so if you see any mistakes feel free to message me and I'll fix it right away. Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoy and stay tuned.

_Roommate wanted: Preferably a college attending male or female. One medium bedroom available along with a full bathroom. Roommate must be dog-friendly and cleanly.  Monthly rent is negotiable within reason. For anymore questions or a tour, please contact the number below._

_****_ Stiles grins at the small print in the back of the paper. The ad all most went unnoticed. Every other contained something flashy with promises that were sure to be false. He doesn’t want to brag, but Stiles is pretty awesome at deciphering bullshit and finding what he really needs. Which is why he needs to contact a woman by the name of Laura Hale.

 **** Having a place to live that wasn’t his dorm would be fantastic. More than fantastic, actually. Stupendously wonderful with a side salad of kickass and sprinkled bacon bits of what dreams must be made of. It isn’t like his dorm sucks. Sure it’s not freaking huge, but it worked just fine. His original roommate ended up switching out last minute before Stiles got there.

 **** This meant Stiles, a freshman in college, would get his own fucking dorm his first year. The first week was pure bliss. Pants? What’s the point?  Dancing alone to the songs on the radio? Who can stop him? VIVA LA REVOLUTION.

 **** Everything was going smooth as can be till he showed up. Jamie. Even now in the library Stiles flinched at the thought of his dorm mate. He was pretty cool at first. He put up his posters and kept to himself for the first week or so. It wasn’t till he started bringing home drunk people back every other night reeking of weed Stiles started getting bothered.

 **** Now, he isn’t a judgy person. He’s more of a ‘you-do-you-booboo’ kind of guy. But when he wakes up in the morning to get to his mythology class, he doesn’t want to get contact by high some girl who he’s never seen before.

 **** Once again, he’s a decent guy. He made some snarky comments and just got on with his life eating a little bit more snack food than usual. He put up with the smelly room. He put up with the loud rambles and getting kicked out of his room so Jamie could do god knows what. His snapping point came two days ago.

 **** When he walked into his room--no, his sanctuary after having a long day to find one of his comics that had been on his desk was not only on the floor but thoroughly trampled. It’s entire cover was ripped off and many of the pages were wet. Which, ew anyone? He didn’t bother finding out what fluid was coating his comic. Instead he told Jamie to go fuck himself and stormed from the dorm with his laptop and wallet.

 **** Which brings him here, in the back of the library nursing a cup of some tea he can’t remember the name of. With a sigh and flourish, he taps the number onto his phone and presses call. Here goes nothing.

****

 

* * *

 Laura Hale is a charming twenty-six year old woman who owns a small cafe near the college. She has strong cheekbones like a model and warm brown eyes that remind Stiles of his mom’s. A smile seems to stay fixed on her full lips. She’s stunning, even with her hair pulled into a mussed ponytail and no makeup on.

 **** The moment Stiles meets her he knows he’ll love her. She meets him in the apartment building with two cups in her hand. When he walks up to her she grins widely and hands him one of the paper cups.

 **** Glancing briefly at his clothes he feels a little over dressed. He dressed in clean, wrinkle-free jeans  with a button up white shirt that hid behind his light jacket. Okay. So he wasn’t fresh off the runway but he obviously put in more effort than Laura. The woman had a pair of dark sweatpants on and an old hoodie that was a faded blue.

 ****"**** You must be Stiles, I’m Laura.” She shakes his hand. She’s got a surprisingly firm grip.

 **** "Nice to meet you,” He says giving her a smile and taking a sip from his cup.

 **** Laura nods towards it. “I didn’t ask you what sorta tea you liked to drink just to be creepy. Trust me, the fact that you don’t prefer organic green tea,” she makes a posh voice, “to normal green tea is just a way of testing you.”

He lets his curiosity get to him, “Testing me?”

 **** Instead of answering she opens the door and ushers him in. “So here’s where you’d get your mail. There’s a tiny laundromat across the street. The apartment has a washer and dryer, so you shouldn’t need to use it.”

 **** They take the elevator to the fifth floor and make their way to a door with the large silver numbers 517.

 **** “Tada.” She sings as she pushes the door open. As soon as she does paws come scurrying towards them. “It’s just me Fenris, sorry I’m not Derek.” She calls, closing the door behind Stiles.

 **** A golden retriever pads its way to them, sniffing Stiles curiously. Laura explains to him that Fenris is Derek’s, the guy who he’d be rooming with, dog and that she’s a sweetheart and likes to snuggle and go for runs.

The tour doesn’t take long. The place is everything Laura said it to be on the phone. Spacious, clean, nice. It lacks a little personality but it’s livable. They end up sitting on the couch to discuss payment. Turns out the sweet place is not only in walking distance of his campus but also in his price range. Stiles shot for the stars and made it with this one.

 **** “So why are you doing all this stuff? Shouldn’t your brother be the one interviewing the people he’s going to be staying with?”

 **** Laura gets this look on her face as she pets Fenris’s head. “Derek...” She begins, picking her words carefully. “Sometimes Derek is an asshole.”

 **** "Don’t go too easy on him,” Stiles snarks.

 **** “He just doesn’t like dealing with a lot of people, I guess. He had an extra room available and I told him he should get someone in here before the room fills up with junk and we have a Hoarders episode right here.”

 **** “You’re thoughtful for someone who doesn’t gain anything from this.”

 **** A long sigh is drawn from her lips. “We come from a big family. We’re used to having someone a room away. I live above my cafe and sometimes I worry about that asshole. Even if you don’t talk-”

 **** “Better to have someone there for just in case?”

 **** “Exactly.”

 **** Stiles sits back into the sinfully comfy couch and gives Laura a smile. “Where’s the paperwork? Sign me in.”

 **** He can’t really lose. Laura’s brother is bound to be half as attractive as she is, which means something to look at. He gets a nice apartment that is weed free and has the cutest freaking dog he’s seen in his whole life. He might steal her.

 **** Seriously. No one can be that bad.

 

* * *

 

 **** Stiles was wrong. Very, very wrong. Even in the comfort of his own new living room with Fenris curled at his feet he can feel it. The lurking predator who he’s only come face to face with a hand full of time in the last two weeks. He’s positive that Derek is watching him, just waiting to see him do something that will let him kick poor Stiles out on the hard streets of New York City.

 **** Laura said Derek didn’t do people well, she didn’t say he didn’t do people at all. Stiles had the pleasure of meeting the friendly Laura Hale’s not-so-friendly brother. The day he moved into the new apartment Derek begrudgingly carried boxes from the small pickup truck that the (gorgeous and snooty) Lydia had pulled strings to use that day. He didn’t say much, just the occasional grunt or one word answer. Once he barked, actually barked, at Stiles to quit staring and do something.Which, hey, Stiles is only human. Laura’s beautiful the way that she looks like she’d be in an outdoors magazine or one of the women you passed casually in the street and think, “Wow, she’s aesthetically pleasing.”  She has an earthiness to her that makes he approachable but a look in her eye that makes you a little uneasy.

 **** Derek is a different story. He’s model material, sure. Strong jaw with stubble coating it. His hair is gelled so it looks effortless but he probably spends about ten minutes every morning staring at it quixotically. Stiles hasn’t gotten close enough to check them up close, but he’s 90 percent sure that he’s got gold in his eyes. He’s built like a tank, too. Obviously when he’s not huddled in his room doing whatever  he’s at the gym or running with Fenris.

 **** The bottomline is that Derek Hale is pretty enough to be in porn. The good porn. The sort of porn that features handsome stars and beautiful women who are unworldly. The sort of people you really want to see having sex. The second he sees him, Stiles understands that he’ll be pilfering through his high quality stash to see if he sees Derek.

 **** But after the boxes are away and Lydia makes him drive the truck to her boyfriend’s friend’s, he takes her to dinner and heads back to his apartment where Derek is nowhere to be seen.

 **** It isn’t till later he’s sitting on the kitchen counter making toast when Derek stumbles from his bedroom, shirtless and hair a mess to the fridge. He doesn’t really acknowledge Stiles existence besides rolling his eyes and saying, “Chairs were made for a reason.” Then grabbing a bottle of water he meanders back into his cave of doom and leaves the door cracked, probably for Fenris.

 **** So all in all? He’s currently living with a recluse who doesn’t want anything to do with him. The apartment seems even smaller when Derek’s there. Derek who uses all the hot water in the morning and doesn’t like to make small talk. Derek who would rather stay holed up in his bedroom than share a seat on the couch while Stiles does his own thing on his laptop.

 **** He’s has somehow succeeded in making Stiles feel like a nuisance and someone who doesn’t get paid enough (read: anything) for this shit.

 **** At least Laura brings him muffins and his clothes don’t smell like weed and desperation.

 

 


	2. Single Egg Scandal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angry breakfast making and embarrassing childhood memories.

It’s eight in the morning when a tastebud awakening aroma drifts into Stiles’s room. He doesn’t have class today and he’s still pretty tired from staying up late having Scott over to play Halo Reach till their eyes bled and Scott stumbled back to his dorm. He has to admit, he was lucky to have found that floppy-haired guy not long after he-who-shan’t-be-named came to live in the dorm.

Scott was sitting around in the cafeteria alone looking around in awe. Stiles honed in on him since Lydia, his best friend from Beacon Hills and the one who gave him the big push to apply for this college, had left abandoned him. Naturally,  Stiles saw Scott as the straggling dear in a herd that was being chased by lions.

But instead of pouncing and devouring Scott’s flesh, he sat next to him and struck a conversation. It was bromance at first sight. Sadly, Scott had been too busy with a date to help Stiles move but made it up it him by bringing pizza over and his LED controllers. Scott McCall’s  a keeper.

The whiff of food hits him again and with a groan he crawls out of bed and doesn’t bother checking his appearance. Derek is usually gone by now, so it’s probably just Laura being the definition of a philanthropist and making food for her brother and by association, Stiles.

He steps into the kitchen and squints in the bright light to see the back of someone at the stove and the smell of well seasoned eggs cooking. He sniffs again. There’s bacon too, he just can’t see it. It takes him half of a second to realize that the back in front of him isn’t Laura’s, unless she grew Hercules muscles within the last two days he saw her.

Shit. Abort mission. _Repeat. Abort mission._

He turns quickly to get the fuck out of dodge when he hears a feminine laugh accompanied by a deep chuckle. He snaps up to see a blonde haired girl with bright red lipstick and smokey eye makeup. Yes, he knows the correct term. After spending years with Lydia at his side he knows a thing or ten about makeup. She’s smiling and wearing a Marvin the Martian shirt with a guy trailing behind her. His skin is a dark brown and his teeth white teeth are peeking from behind his smile.

Leave it to Derek to have attractive friends.

Wait...

“Holy shit you have friends.” He blurts. Of course all attention snaps to him, including Derek’s hard gaze. Even carrying a pan of eggs and a spatula he looks intimidating.

The blonde speaks first, “Oh, _this_ must be the roommate.” Her smile stays but her face twists into a friendly and amused (and a little condescending) expression.

It is at this moment Stiles realizes he’s just wearing a pair of Iron Man boxers and an old grey teeshirt. He sighs and wonders why fate punishes him in such cruel and unusual ways.  “Yeah,” He says giving a tiny wave, “That’s me. Stiles.”

“Erica, and this is Boyd.” She points to the hulking figure behind her. Boyd gives him a nod instead of verbal greeting. “We were just about to have breakfast before going out, do you want to join?”

The food coming from the food does smell heavenly. His stomach growls quietly. “I’d lov-”

“There’s not enough.” Derek cuts in, grabbing three plates and spooning spooning the eggs onto each one. Stiles knows he’s lying through his rabbit teeth because there is some left in the pan for two seconds before he adds it to his own plate. “See?”

Erica makes a show out of rolling her eyes, “Really.”

Moving to the microwave he pulls out the bacon and places it on each plate as well. “I made enough for three. Don’t get pouty.” He grouses. “If you want to feed him so badly, give him _your_ plate.”

“Whatever.” She claps Stiles on the shoulder before getting  her plate. “You’ll have to fend for yourself,” She shrugs heartlessly and walks to the couch with her food. Stiles can see three mugs with steam coming from them are on the living room table.

Well isn’t Derek just the host of the year. Stepping back he glares at Derek as he hands Boyd his plate and they retreat to the living room. Fine. He can make his own eggs. His eggs are going to fucking _decimate_ Derek’s selfish egs because he’s going to smother his breakfast in love.

Grabbing the mixing bowl from the cabinet he throws it down on the counter and rips open the fridge door. He picks up the carton of eggs and opens it to see that there is only one egg left. What kind of twisted brute leaves one egg all by itself? He looks over at the three friends talking quietly and eating.

Raising a hand he eloquently lifts his middle finger high and sticks his tongue out, just in time for Derek to glance back. Their eyes lock. Time stands still and Stiles has two choices.  Act like he wasn’t giving Derek the bird or stick to his guns. He blinks rapidly and then makes the choice.

Slowly he brings his other hand up and lifts that middle finger too. Derek stares at him for a few moments before giving an annoyed huff and turns around, mumbling under his breathe. Stiles counts this as a big win. He cracks open the egg into the bowl and snatches a whisk, humming.

“You’d think some people would be more mature.”

Stiles eyes twitches. He channels his inner Bruce Banner and hones in his anger on something more productive. He adds pepper to his egg before whisking it so hard the bowl in his hand shakes.

Man, fuck that guy.

****

 

* * *

 

Later that day Stiles is holed up in his bedroom. He isn’t sure if Derek is still entertaining and he prefers not to find out. Oh. How the tables have turned. He’s mindlessly playing League of Legends  when his phone goes off. Making noise of frustration he quickly grabs it it and presses it to his ear.

“Hello?”

“Stiles! Finally, someone who uses their phone.” Laura’s voice is distorted slightly by her background noise. “What are you doing?”

He promptly reasons that Laura doesn’t know he’s in his pajamas playing an online game and has been for the last three hours. “Existing..?” He asks slowly.

Instead of exasperation Laura’s voice gets animated. “Fantastic! One of my workers are out today and I need you to fill in.”

“What?” Stiles squawks, “I-I’m not even qualified for that. And I don’t know how to make your drinks or-”

“Stiles,” She cuts in firmly. “I’m the owner, I’m in a jam, and I’d ask Derek but his phone is dead and he said he was going to be out all day.”

He must’ve been looking at the wall because when he looks back at his screen he’s dead. “Shit.”

“Excuse me?”

“Not you, my computer.”

A pause, “Stiles why are you talking to your computer? You know what, doesn’t really matter. Just get down here and you can take home all the leftover cupcakes and cookies you want.”

“...I want unlimited tea.”

“Deal.”

Stiles smiles and straightens up, “I’ll be there in thirty.” Click

* * *

 He shows up on time freshly showered and looking like a normal human being again. He shoots Laura a smile as she tosses him the little button that all the employees must wear. She runs him over all the basics of working the cash register and explains that Isaac would make the drinks and show him how.

Luckily it’s not a busy day and Stiles ends up making four drinks with no help, all of which had good reviews. The crowd at Laura’s cafe is predominantly filled with college students and local young residents. Though, Stiles did get the chance to serve a sweet old lady who called him a dear and patted his hand when she handed him money. What? He’s a sucker for kind people.

By the end of the night Stiles waves goodbye to Isaac who gives him a warm smile before clocking out and leaving. He’s drinking an herbal blend of tea waiting for Laura to finish packing up Stiles’s goody-bag when Derek walks into the abandoned shop.

He gives Stiles a questioning look, confusion painted all over his unfairly pretty face. It’s almost a cute look at him, his head even tilts to the left a little. “Why are you here?”

“The open sign is not lit up, Derek. You do know that means you can’t come in right?”

“Why. Are. You. Here?” He asks again, taking long strides to the counter.

Laura’s sharp voice comes from the back, “Were-Der, don’t harass my new workerbee.”

“Your new _what_?” Derek snaps at the same time Stiles asks,

“ _Were-Der_?”

She comes out from the kitchen and hands Stiles his bag. “He gets along with clients and who turns down a paycheck?”

Stiles wants to ask Laura if she’s lost her mind and that this was supposed to be a one time thing, but Derek is standing there looking all sorts of irritated so instead he goes with something better. “Certainly not _I_ Miss Hale.”

Laura smirks, “I prefer Your Majesty, Sir Stiles.”

“Laura you can’t be serious.”

Stiles glares, “Shut up Were-Der, my boss is a level-headed woman.”

By the way she throws her head back and cackles, he seriously doubts it. “Oh man. When we were kids, Derek pretended to be a werewolf.” Tears began to form in her eyes, “He’d crawl around and command our dogs around and whenever they didn’t listen he’d go," She paused and took in a shaky breath, face red and teeth showing. " _‘I’m the alpha’_ and glare at them till they walked away.” She burst into another fit of laughter, holding her stomach and grabbing the counter to keep upright.

Between her laughter, the story, and the image of a tiny Derek growling at his dogs, Stiles doubles over as well, silently laughing so hard he’s positive his abs will look like Derek’s when he gets home.

“Laura! Shut up or I’ll-”

“You’ll what Derek? Rip my throat out with your teeth?” She pretended to growl and pawed at him.

Derek’s face was flushed under the stubble and Stiles would have felt bad for him if he hadn’t been a total douchebag earlier( Seriously, one egg).  He was glaring furiously at Laura and Stiles, “Shut up.” His voice came out as more of a whine than anything.

Laura sobered up and wiped away her tears. “Okay, okay. I-I think I’m good now.” She straightened her shirt, “Yeah we’re good. I put some of your favorites in the bag, didn’t feel like packing two bags.” She explained eyes sweeping the cafe.

She popped open the cash register and started counting. They stood their in silence, Stiles still trying to contain the laughter that bubbled in his throat and threatened to escape while Derek stood there looking like he hated his life.

Looking up in sighing, Laura shooed them. “What the fuck are you two doing? Go walk home. Together, preferably? Stiles hasn’t taken this route at night before.”

When they’re out of the restaurant Stiles pipes up cheerfully, “If it makes you feel any better, I’m sure you were a very convincing werewolf.”

He might be crazy but it looks like Derek’s lips twitch.

“I was a damn good one.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! I wasn't expecting that much positive feedback. Thanks so much! I hope you liked reading this. (As always, if you see a mistake let me know and I'll fix it)


	3. A Thousand Miles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drunken shenanigans.

The next two and a half weeks go by surprisingly quickly. Between classes and working at the cafe, he hasn’t much time for  people. Okay, so more specifically Lydia. Both of them have had shockingly busy. Well, _Stiles_ has been shockingly busy. He had always suspected Lydia would be juggling five things the second her heel clad feet touched NYC soil.

 She texted him this morning telling him that she’d come to see him at the end of his shift and told him to keep his schedule clear. It isn’t like he had plans besides getting all the achievements in Assassin’s Creed 3, so he texts ‘ _yeah sure’_.

 “One black chai and blueberry muffin.” He says handing a tired looking girl her order.  He turned to Isaac, “You finish that essay?”

 Isaac puffed his cheeks and shook his head, wiping a spill on the counter. “No...Lena called to see how I was doing.” Lena is his foster mom. Stiles doesn’t know all the details except that Isaac doesn’t have his biological parents anymore.

 “How’s she?” He inquires conversationally, eyes flickering over to see him give a noncommittal shrug.

 “She’s the same. But my sister, Mary, she’s planning on Skyping me for my birthday.” A smile lifts to his lips at the thought of his sister. She’s thirteen and missing him dearly.

 Isaac has only been with his family since sophomore year but he fits in well, he’s closest to his Mary. He isn’t technically adopted but he says they treat him like he’s of their own.

 Grinning, Stiles reaches over to bump Isaac’s shoulder. “Glad to hear that,” he manages to say before another customer comes to the counter.

 “Hello ma’am, what can I get for you today?”

 

 

 

* * *

 As soon as he clocks out and walks back to the front of the cafe, he sees Lydia sitting in a table primly. She looks like the stereotype of a fashionable New York girl. Black heeled boots with cream tights underneath a forest green jacket that reached her knees. It’s unbuttoned and underneath that a white shirt.

 Lydia is beautiful. Stiles actually wanted to marry her till freshman year. It was sophomore year that he realized he loved her but wasn’t _in love_ with her. He still knows that he and she could still have beautiful children, though. There is no denying genetics.

 “Stiles, here.” Isaac is holding two cups in his hand. “Your friend has been sitting there for a few minutes, I figured you’d want drinks.” His smile turns sheepish and Stiles wants to cry because Isaac is a lovable puppy.

 “Thanks, I owe you.” He said taking them and heading over to the table.

Lydia looks up and gives Stiles a small nod. “Don’t you look cute with your little button.” She smirks, accepting the beverage he hands to her.

 “Did you really come here to mock me?” He flops into the chair and yawns obnoxiously. “You’ve gotten _so_ boring Lydia. What happened to my warrior goddess?”

 She exhales sharply through her nose and her eyes crinkle like she’s trying to hold a smile. “What happened to my level 25 summoner?”

 “I’m level 30 now.”

 “I was joking at first, but now I know that you’ve had too much free time.” Lydia holds a hand up when Stiles opens his mouth to protest. “Bringing me to my point. You need to get out more and there’s a party happening.”

  
He gasps, “You’re gonna take me to a party? Oh Lyds, you _shouldn’t have._ I’m gonna start tearing up.”

 She sips from the cup and makes a surprised noise, “This is pretty good.” To herself at first, then, “Yes, I am. So if you could stop being a sarcastic bitch and listen--”

 “Kettle, pot.”

 Glaring, “So you’re coming with me. You’ll pick me up at eight. Wear the black jeans I got you, no matter what you pair with that you’ll look good.”

 “Fine.”

 “Good.” She gets up and grabs her purse and as a second thought her drink. “I’ll see you then,”

 Quickly he stands and pulls Lydia into a hug, causing her to grunt. “I miss you too.” He can smell the sweet perfume and lip gloss that clings to her skin.

 “When is the last time you showered?” She groans.

 “ _Lydia_.”

 She pulls away and gives him a look, “Goodbye, Stiles.” Lydia turns to walk out of the cafe. Before she’s more than four feet away she stops. “Me too.”

 A smile splits onto his face and he watches her walk away gracefully and powerfully. “LOVE YOU.”

 A manicured finger gives him a salute and then she’s gone.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 When he gets back to the apartment, Derek is nowhere to be seen. Fenris isn’t trotting around which means he’s probably out running with her or something. He has about an hour to get ready before he has to walk to Lydia’s.

 He ignores his computer’s soft cries to come pay attention to it when he sees it. Instead he takes a shower and washes away the day’s grime. He even conditions his hair for the recommended time. When he’s out he brushes his teeth and towel dries his hair.

 Stiles considers dressing awfully in spite of his best friend but instead thinks of the possibilities. College party. Alcohol. Loud music on shitty speakers. There’s bound to be at least one person who wants a piece of him.

 It pains him, but he knows it’s been awhile since he’s been with anyone. Believe it or not, Stiles Stilinski isn’t a virgin. He’s also dated around in high school, girls and guys, but never really clicked with anyone.

 College is the time to shine and meet your perfect match in some random happenstance. This is his time to shine. Well, at least that’s what the movies and shows tell him. So he picks the jeans Lydia got him and then a deep blue v-neck that clings in just the right places. He tugs on a pair of sneakers and then runs a shaping cream through his hair and heads out.

 Lydia’s apartment isn’t far from his own. She has a roommate, Allison, but he’s never met her. It’s smaller than his but closer to school grounds and has a nicer view. After walking for fifteen minutes he arrives at her door. They have keys to one another’s residence so he doesn’t bother knocking and heads straight in

 She’s sitting on her couch and hasn’t bothered changing. “You’re five minutes late.” She stands and strides to him, eyes glazing over his outfit. “Good to know you still have muscles form lacrosse, figured freshman 15 would have gotten you by now.”

 “Your confidence in me is outstanding.” He says linking her arm in his and walking out of the apartment.

 This time, she doesn’t hide the smile as she nudges him. “You know I’m rooting for you.”

 “Yeah,” He says. “I know.”

 

* * *

 

 Music is thumping and shaking the walls of a crowded loft. Stiles is on his second vodka mixed with coke (not to be mistaken with coke mixed with vodka) and he’s semi-dancing, more so swaying with Lydia.

“All I’m saying is he’s a giant dick okay? Like, this...This motherfucker leaves one egg in a carton. Who does that?” He asks into her ear.

 “You’ve told me this story five times Stiles.” She says peering over his shoulder. A sinister smirk grows onto her face.

 “Shhh.” He hushes, “I’m telling you my woes. Living with a hot guy who doesn’t feed me is literally going to be the end of me.”

 She opens her mouth but a loud voice interrupts her. “STILES?”

 Stiles whips around to see Scott with a girl next to him. “MY MAN.” He says tapping his knuckles with Scott’s.

 "I didn’t know you were coming--Oh, this is Allison.”

 Lydia smiles at Allison and Allison smiles back before focusing on Stiles. “Hey, you must be Stiles...?”

 Nodding emphatically he takes a large sip of his mixed drink. “Yeah. Stiles Stilinski at your service m’lady.”

 Allison laughs and so does Scott. Stiles can almost feel Lydia’s powerful eyeroll next to him.

 The song transitions from a heavy beat to a piano melody. Scott and Stiles freeze and look at each other.

 “Oh my god.” Lydia groans.

 “This. _This song_ is my JAM.” Stiles says handing Lydia his solo cup.

 “How did you know?” Scott asks. “I love this song!”

 Stiles’s fuzzy mind tells him to hug Scott for the A+ reference later. But for now...

 "Making my downtown, walking pass and I’m homebound!” He belts out with Scott, both of the screaming above the volume. People turn, Lydia shakes her head.

 “Staring blankly ahead, just making my way, making my way through the crooowd.” They continue.

 Scott steps onto the coffee table, “And I need you.”

 Stiles goes down onto his knees and reaches up to Scott, “And I miss you.”

 “And now I wonder.” A new voice cuts in. Stiles freezes and turns to see Erica standing above him with a grin. Behind her Derek stands looking amused.

 Seriously? But he doesn’t have time to defuse the situation because Erica is pulling him up and singing to him. And Stiles thinks, fuck it. He’s tipsy. His song is on. A pretty girl wants to sing with him and his floppy haired buddy.  Why not?

 They serenade each other at the top of their lungs and make wide dramatic gestures with their whole bodies. By the end of the song Erica, Scott, and Stiles are all panting and laughing and Erica highfives them both.

 “We should start a band.” Stiles slurs.

 Erica shakes her head, “I’m too sober for this.” But by the way she drags out the ‘s’, it’s clear she’s had some to drink.

 Scott leaves and Stiles looks to see Derek is nowhere to be seen. Neither is Lydia. He mourns the loss of his drink. She probably tossed it out.

 “Stiles, right?” Erica asks pulling Stiles to a different part of the loft. “I see shots in our future.”

 Stiles wraps an arm around her waist and they find a half empty bottle of vodka and two shot glasses. They move to a quieter corner of the room and set up camp. Then it begins.

 

* * *

 As they drink Stiles learns more and more about Erica. Like they both hated the same issue of Batman and think Tim Drake deserved more love. He also learns that she dragged Derek here so she wouldn’t have to party alone. Apparently, Derek isn’t keen on the party scene.  Most importantly, Stiles learns that she can take a shot of vodka without a grimace. He respects her in several different ways now.

 “Erica Reyes you are the Catwoman to my Batman.” Stiles giggles, head falling onto her shoulder as she finishes another shot. She drops the bottle and bursts into laughter.

 “And Lydia?”

 “Reminds me of Poison Ivy.”

 “And so who is Derek then?”

 “Derek...Derek is _Dick._ ”

 “I said who not what,” She snorts, flicking Stiles’s forehead.

 He curses and paws at her lethargically, “Shit...Uh, I dunno. Anyone who Batman wants to simuntiteously---simul _tan_ eously bang and beat up in an alleyway.”

 Erica lifts her head up lazily and gives him a toothy smile, “Tell me how you really feel.”

 “Fuck off okay. He’s-”

 “Stiles Stilinski you’re going home right now.” Lydia’s voice cuts in.

 “But Lydia,” he whines, “Erica and me are having a good time.”

 Flicking hair over her shoulder. “Erica and I, Stiles. Your grammar is shot to shit, you need to go home and sleep.”

 Stiles turns to Erica and pouts before hugging her, “Come see m’collection soon kay Selina?”

 She nods and pats Stiles’s head. “See you Bruce.”

 Standing up he sees that a brooding Derek and a half-asleep Boyd are standing behind Lydia. “What’s goin’ on ‘ere?” He asks squinting at Derek.

 “You’re going home. I’m staying because I know how not to get drunk in tthree hours. Luckily, Derek and Boyd are nice enough to take you and Erica.”

 Boyd glances at Erica who springs to her feet, “Thought you didn’t wanna party?”

 He sighs, taking her hand and steering her from the group, “I don’t. I’m here to make sure you don’t pass out in a cab.”

Lydia walks to Stiles and gives him a kiss on the cheek, “You’re welcome. Call me in the morning.”

 And with that, she’s gone. Her figure disappears in the cluster of bodies still grinding. Stiles looks at Derek and grunts. “C’mon you big lug.”

 

* * *

 

 The fresh air hits him in the face and makes him breathe sharply. It’s been awhile since he wasn’t surrounded by the smell of sweat and liquor. He closes his eyes and presses firmly against Derek, who has an arm over his shoulders to help steer him.

 The inebriated part of Stiles’s mind regrets that he may not remember how it this felt in the morning. “We there yet?” He asks into Derek’s shirt.

 “No.”

 “Why?” He drawls, causing Derek to stiffen with annoyance.

“We’re like five minutes away. You’ll be fine.” Derek promises in a grumpy tone.

 Stiles shuts up after that. For about three minutes. Then he’s singing loudly suddenly.

 “I wanna be sedated!” He cries into the night.Even drunk, Stiles doesn’t sound half bad. He was in choir for three years in middle school. “Nothing to do, nowhere to go-o-o.” He continues.

 “I know you can’t control your brain, but stop singing.”

 Stiles looks up at Derek in wonder. “You listen to The Ramones?” He asks reaching up and patting Derek’s stubble. Gently, his hand is removed by Derek’s.

 “I didn’t live under a rock before.” He fishes out the key to their apartment.

 Huh. When did they even get in the elevator? Shit, when did they even get to their building? Stiles comes to the conclusion that  he doesn’t care because all he wants to do is lie down in his bed at the moment. He wasn’t tired till he realized his bed was so very, very close. “Were-Der. Bed.” He says pointing to his bedroom.

 Stiles is marveled when Derek moves to his bedroom without complaint. He’s set down on his bed and Derek unties his shoelaces and pulls off each sneaker. “What else do you listen to?”

 “Take your pants off.” Derek commands.

 Shrugging, Stiles shamelessly undoes his jeans and begins to pull them off. Derek has his eyes fixed on the wall behind Stiles as he answers his question, “A little bit of everything.”

 He tosses his pants onto the ground with a proud smile and works off his socks, mumbling at them. They know he hates sleeping with them on so _why_ are they still on his feet? He’s struggling with the left sock and Derek takes pity on him, pulling it off for him and adding it to the growing pile. Stiles notes that his fingertips feel calloused against his ankle for the brief second it touches his skin.

 Pulling back the covers, he nudges Stiles into his bed and covers him. Derek stands up, “I’m finished here. Try to sleep.”

 “Wait!” Stiles grabs Derek’s arm and tugs with all his might. It isn’t much, but Derek is caught off guard and he almost falls atop of Stiles. With quick reflexes he catches himself, arms bracing besides Stiles’s head, face close. Stiles keeps his grip firm.

 “You didn’t say goodnight,” He whispers, eyes searching Derek’s face. His eyes _do_ have flecks of gold in them.

 Derek swallows and Stiles can feel his arm tense underneath his hold. “Goodnight, Stiles.” His voice comes out strained.

 Lips twisting into a smile, Stile lets go of the arm and reaches to cup Derek’s face. “Night, Der.”

 Derek  face turns soft for a second or two before backing off and heading out of the door. Stiles can hear his bedroom door shut. Turning on his side and snuggling into his pillow, he begins to wonder if Derek plays guitar or not. Without warning, he falls asleep with thoughts of an angsty teenage Derek playing in his shitty garage band.

 

* * *

 

Waking he feels like a zombie. His head is pulsating and his tongue is heavy, sticking to the roof of his mouth unpleasantly. He groans and squints at the clock next to him. It’s half past noon and he’s got a shift at the cafe starting at 3 to closing.

 “Why do you do this to yourself?” He asks himself, voice croaky and hoarse. Probably from the shots.

 Stumbling into his bathroom he takes in his appearance. His hair is completely disheveled, one side lay flat and the other side sticking up in every direction. He has dried drool at the corner of his lips, and puffy eyes. Come get it while it’s hot guys. Looking like this, he’s gonna get snatched up like...Like anything delicious and awesome, forgive Stiles for not being witty when he’s hungover.

 He relieves himself first then hobbles to the sink and begins brushing his teeth furiously, trying to get the ghastly taste from his mouth. He begins to recall last night in tiny increments. He remembers Erica and Scott, the three of them singing, then he and Erica did shots. He scrunches up his nose in concentration as he tries to think of what else went down.

 They talked. About comics and games, he’s pretty sure she asked him to join her guild. Then Lydia’s stern disapproving face. Then walking home- _no_ , being walked home by Derek. Derek.

 At the thought of his name a few of the memories come rushing back, fuzzy and abundant. He sang to Derek in the streets of New York. Derek freaking _Hale_ tucked him into bed last night. Derek Hale’s face was three inches away from his.He stops mid-brush stroke and winces. He rinses his mouth out with cold water and washes his face. The icy water hits his cheeks and he flinches. Of course. Of course he would manage to get Derek partially in his bed when he’s barely clothed when was drunk.

 Stiles groans aloud, how is this his life?  Leaving the bathroom he picks up his cell and sees he has three text messages.

 An unknown number,

_this is ctawoman ;)_

 He saves the number and applauds Erica for only misspelling one word.

 Lydia,

_Text me when you’re awake xx_

 Stiles quickly hits reply. _I’m up. Fine except colossal embarrassment._

 The final text is from Laura.

  _Derek better have gotten you home fine. You’re still working today._

 He feels stupid for once thinking she was a philanthropist. She’s nothing but a bully. Did Derek blab to her that he had to take a drunk Stiles home? Wow. Dick move.

 His phone chirps to alert him of a new message from Lydia. A picture is a attached. Stiles clicks it and sees he and Erica laughing with each other. It’s a good picture considering they were both drunk. A smile flickers onto his lips and he gazes at their gleeful expressions as they hold their shot glasses.

 Another text message comes in, from Lydia as well.  It reads: _You probably didn’t notice, so I’ll point it out for you._

 Attached is the same picture but magnified and focused on what’s behind Erica, staring at Stiles. Rather, _who_ is staring at him. It’s blurry but to Stiles it’s clear as day. There’s Derek with a guarded look on his mug. As if he’s waiting, ready to pounce on anyone that messes with the two drunken friends.

 Stiles texts back,

  
_In the words of Catwoman, I’m too sober for this._

 He tosses his phone onto his bed and heads to the bathroom to get painkillers for his head. After all, he’s got a shift in a few hours and he’d rather not be dying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! And all your comments are lovely, I really appreciate them. I'll be editing this a few more times just because my computer is being wonky with the format. Sorry about that. Stay fantastic!


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